Coyote? Or wolf?
by HorseLoverKT
Summary: CT Renate is finally moving back to La Push after leaving because her father died. She doesn't really remember her father other than the smell of his smoke-coated leather tribal-healer jacket. Her mother is now a Tribal Elder and Coyote hears the stories


Hi. My name is C T Renate and I am an official bad friend.

My BFFL (best friend for life for you losers who don't know what that means) moved away from Forks, Washington last year. She wanted me to go to Hawaii with her, but I couldn't. I had to finish school.

Yeah, I know. It's a bad excuse.

So Heather went to Hawaii without me and met a guy, Henry Gera. Henry was really nice to her at first, and Heather kept writing to me, saying everything was fine.

Then one day Heather's mom died and I went out to Hawaii to pay my respects at the funeral. I met Henry outside the church and we talked for a little bit.

Heather was right, he was amazing.

I then went inside the church to see that I was a bit underdressed. I was wearing a navy off the shoulder top with black flowy pants. Everyone else was wearing floor-length dresses and had dark veils covering their tight buns, which much contrasted to my high, swingy ponytail.

Heather ran up to me and we hugged tightly.

"How are you, C T?" she asked. I then made a big mistake.

"Well, I'm a bit groggy from the flight, I had major delays in Sacramento, and I feel much underdressed. Why didn't you tell me to wear a dress? I never thought that you would!" I exclaimed grumpily.

"Well." Heather said snippily. "If you want to pay respects and be kind to my family later, you can come back to Hawaii." Then she shoved me out the door.

I haven't seen her since. I heard that her dad died via our mutual friend Greta, but wasn't invited to the funeral. Right then Greta is probably in Hawaii after the funeral, checking out hot guys on the beach. I was sitting in my dad's office, finishing my application to Little Bighorn Boarding School in Hawaii, on the island of Maui, where Heather is. I hoped that I got excepted so I could apologize to her face, since I thought she deleted my emails and texts while ignoring my calls.

"Coyote Taylor! Get down here NOW!" my mom screamed from the bottom of the stairs. I quickly un-twisted my raven-black hair from its braids and let it flow down to the small of my back. My pale skin is from Mama, she's an Irish woman who came to Forks with her parents seeking peace. My shocking blue eyes are from her, too. My hair and attitude come from my father, the Quileute native medicine man, who died when I was two. I don't really remember him but Paul Green (my step-dad) is pretty cool.

I slid my small feet into my black flip-flops with the really thick bottom that made me look 5'3" instead of wimpy 5'1".

I ran over to my room and grabbed my purple scarf and wrapped it around my waist, covering the small ink stain in my black and white striped sweater-tank top that was on top of a white long sleeve tee with a slight "pouf" at the wrists so it covered my tiny hands. My white below-the-knee Capri's finished off the look quite nicely, if you ask me.

I then ran down the steps, making Mama jump with all the noise. I jumped on her back and inhaled the fresh scent of our wild violet and pomegranate shampoo. Then I ran out to the car, laughing.

"Someone's in a good mood today." Mama stated as she slid gracefully into the car.

"Well, I want to meet the boys!" I exclaimed. That day was the day that I finally got to go back on the reservation and meet my fellow Quileute's. I had been kept off that land for ten years because of superstitions and now I was going to a bonfire with the tribal elders, which not includes Mama, although she is not actually a blood Quileute.

"I think that you should calm down." Mama reprimanded when I squealed at the site of the "Welcome to La Push" sign at the side of the road. I looked into the forest and I swore that I saw some gigantic wolves running along in the forest playing.

I looked at Mama and saw that once we had crossed the border, she was another person. She was relaxed, but aware. She closed her eyes as we went around a bend, causing me to grip the armrests tightly, but she didn't leave her lane. I heard a roar and behind us, two motorcycles appeared and they came up on either side of us. Two totally muscular guys without shirts zoomed past yelling, "Welcome to La Push, chica!"

They must be part of the elders' families, the ones who had moved us out of La Push originally was a man named Billy Black, but if I closed my eyes and focused hard, I could see a six-year-old boy hiding behind his dad and then, when my stuff was being packed, he came over to me and said something that still confuses me: "Growl, you're not gonna be a wolf!" After he said that, the other boys came over to him and stared annoying him so I just walked away, but those words bothered me.

"Ahhh," Mama breathed. "This is why I wanted to come back."

I soon saw cliffs rising high above the salty spray of the ocean. The waves' battling against the rock walls was constant, but silent in our little Bug.

"Stop here." I sighed, and Mama pulled over. I saw one of the motorcycle boys look back at us, but they just continued roaring down the street. I burst out the car door and ran to the edge of the cliffs and pulled a small blue camera out of my pocket and snapped a couple shots of the waves and the cliffs.

"Hey, want me to get you in a picture?" a deep voice sounded by my ear, almost sending me flying over the edge. "Wait, are you Coyote?" he asked as I turned to see relatively familiar eyes staring down at me from up in space. I scurried away from him so I didn't have to hurt my neck to look in his eyes.

"Yeah. And you are?" I said hesitantly because this dude was a beast. His muscles were bigger than the boys on the motorcycles, and he had, like, a six-_teen_ pack of abs that were revealed due to his lack of having a shirt. He was wearing dark wash jean shorts with a torn hem. That's it. No shoes.

"Jacob Black." he said, putting his hand out for a shake. I took it and Holy Crap it was burning!

"Did you just take your hands off the stove or something?" I asked, incredulous. He grinned and shook his head.

"I'm just hot that way." he stated, hands in pockets. _In more ways than one!_ I think, allowing myself to daydream a little.

"So?" he asked, putting his hand out, palm up.

I gave him a high-five.

He laughed. "I asked if you wanted me to take a picture of you and the cliffs."

"Oh…" I said, embarrassed. I ducked my chin to my collarbone and blushed. "Sure." I mumbled and he took the camera.

"You have to look up." he demanded and I did so after calming down. I struck a pose with my arms above my head in a V and my legs wide-spread and when the little red light flashed, I jumped into a tribute of High School Musical butt-kick.

Thing is, you should never jump when you're at the edge of a cliff. It's a really bad idea. If Jake hadn't been freaky strong and fast, I might have died.

When I landed, my toes hit solid ground and my heels were hanging off the cliff. I screamed and Jake quickly shoved my camera into my open purse and grabbed my ankles as I began to fall. I was hanging upside-down and the blood was rushing to my face not only because of embarrassment. When Jake stood up, my ankles were at his shoulders and my head at his knees.

I am a tiny girl.

I hate it.

I punched him hard in well… the spot that hurts, causing him to drop me from great heights. I flipped and landed in a crouch.

I ran away, laughing as he shouted, "I will get you for this, Coyote Taylor Renate!" and I stuck my tongue out at him when I reached the car.

"Yeah, you will… when pigs soar!" I cried happily, sliding into the shotgun seat.

Mom restarted the car and we drove off, Jacob playfully shaking a fist at us. I blew him a kiss, causing him to laugh loudly.

We turned onto the small highway and Mama gunned the engine, sending dust to fly behind us. The forest disappeared and houses began to pop up here and there and became more frequent. All of the houses were relatively small, but painted bold colors. I counted 4 blues, 9 reds, and only one brown before I got bored.

Mama then slowed down as we entered the town center, which included:

-One pharmacy

-One grocery store

-One everything store

And some houses. Once we left town, Mama stayed at her speed-limit pace and we reached the very edge of town where there was a red house and a lime green house across the street that looked new.

Wait.

That was my new house.

I was going to be living in a lime green house!

Woo-hoo! I am excited. I wonder who lives in the house across the street. The U-Haul was parked in the driveway and it was by far the largest house in La Push.

It was a Victorian style house with a wraparound porch and ground level and a wrap around BALCONY on the second floor. It's kind of odd to have a Victorian style be lime-green but I DIDN'T CARE! I had an amazing house. We were pulling into the driveway and I bounced out of the car to see that there were about 14 motorcycles next to the house across the street. Two of them were the ones that had zoomed past on our way in.

I shrugged and walked into the house to see the one (kind of), the only (not really) QUILEUTE BOYS! –insert my silent cheer! (Not!)- They freaked me out, lifting me up with their too hot hands and slinging me over their oven-like shoulders, carrying me up the stairs despite my protests. One of the boys was behind me, his hands in his pockets as he stared at his fellows who took me into a cute little bedroom that must be mine and threw me onto the bed, screaming like girls, "Welcome to La Push, Little Brat!"

"Hey-" I stared to jump up before they pushed me back down. I then seethed from on my plush purple pillows, "I am _not _a brat." Some of the boys laughed at my murderous expression, others cringed playfully.

One of them jumped on the bed next to me and held my wrists above my head as he leaned close to me and whispered, blowing watermelon-gum flavored breath across my face, "That's not what Jake said."

The other boys started barking with laughter as the young boy (he must have been thirteen like me) sat up on the bed and smirked. Then I met his eyes for the first time and suddenly the expression on them changed from cocky to shocked to intrigued to loving. This was freaky. Someof his friends saw and immediately dragged him off my bed and out of the room. The rest of the pack of boys followed, except one. The one who had stood behind me as I was tortured with the heat.

He sat down in lovey-dovey dude's recently vacated spot and I could see that he was trying to keep a straight face.

"What the _crap_ was that?" I asked, apparently breaking this dude. I hated that I didn't know their names. Now he was laughing so hard that the bed was shaking.

"I-am Sam Uley- the old-est of the- boys." Sam managed to choke out.

"And that was?"

"I'm Evan."

* * *

Like it? Hate it? Marry it? Bury it?

Clever? Never?

Please Review with your criticisms.


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